


All Fun And Games Until I Actually Die

by SpeedingCheetah



Series: blnt fics ive wrote to rip my heart out subconsciously [4]
Category: better luck next time - Fandom, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I keep writing prompts instead of doing my hw, Midoriya Izuku Gets A Hug, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Break, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Midoriya Izuku Needs Therapy, Not beta read we die like Izuku, Protective Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Quirk Discrimination (My Hero Academia) is mentioned, Spin-Off, This fic is a spin-off, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Vigilantism, actually no nvm Aizawa did it for us, read carefully, someone give Izuku a hug, triggers are in the notes, yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeedingCheetah/pseuds/SpeedingCheetah
Summary: Izuku Midoriya would do nearly anything to reach the goals he had. He’d take risks and make bargains with those who he thought he would have never chosen to work with; He’d even die.He’d joke around and make himself feel better by resetting from the misery he experienced each night on patrol, each hour when his thoughts turned bitter and hateful. But such actions couldn’t be used forever.  After all, it was only all fun and games until he actually died.And when Izuku told someone this, he wasn’t too sure as to what he was thinking.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Izuku & Monoma Neito is mentioned
Series: blnt fics ive wrote to rip my heart out subconsciously [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195742
Comments: 31
Kudos: 226
Collections: better luck next time and related works





	All Fun And Games Until I Actually Die

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nauticalwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/gifts).
  * Inspired by [better luck next time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394571) by [nauticalwarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nauticalwarrior/pseuds/nauticalwarrior). 



> Trigger Warning: _Mentions of Violence (Gore + Blood), Mentions of Injury, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Suicide, Brief Mentions of Self-Harm, (Destructive) Quirk-Effects, Suicidal Thoughts, Mention of Nausea / Sickness.._ I believe that’s all; Read with caution.
> 
> — — —
> 
> And guess who wrote another Hurt/Comfort dadzawa blnt based fic instead of any of my other stories- That’s right, clearly it was me. *cackles* - This takes place roughly after Chapter 63!
> 
> (If you think a trigger should be added, let me know!) - Happy reading!!

Pain could bloom as quickly as a nature quirk’s effects on a hot spring in a forest free of any humanity. It could blossom like a wild berry and become ripe, ready to fall and be picked off of its stem for whatever hellish reason the host needed to feel agony for. 

There was always going to be pain within society, and then there was euphoria of calm tranquility that balanced the humans’ nerves. The feeling of inhaling helium without the effects of having a high-pitched voice, or of worrying you would get sick from the over inhalation of such a compound.

Heaven was self-explanatory; The feeling of peace and eternal freedom. It released the tension in Izuku’s body, and he felt so high in an empty room his head had started to spin in a familiar way. 

Except this time, it wasn’t nauseating. 

It was a feeling that made him want more, addictive for all the wrong reasons.

Hell was the opposite; The imaginary feeling of peace washing away into burning and brittle heat that stuck and scraped Izuku’s skin raw. It burned and hurt more than when Fury had burned his arm with cigarettes. It blistered and made him want to claw his flesh apart, more than he did when he felt useless after one too many resets being used.

Fury’s quirk was unfair past Izuku’s understanding, but the feeling of peace and lightheadedness that consumed him when Heaven was activated was so damn _relaxing._ He wished he was stronger, and had a higher tolerance to that man’s quirk just so he wouldn’t get addicted to the feeling.

But he was already addicted; The greenette knew it. 

He was already addicted to the sweet lies that turned bitter after one wrong move, already lost in the feeling of euphoria that Heaven brought him. He was lost in that feeling, lost in his own head and longing for the feeling to come back and take the burden off his shoulders.

His chest felt so heavy in comparison to those precious moments; His body ached and his lungs were filled with an unidentifiable source of smoke and char. The smoke from Fury’s cigarettes was a scent he remembered clearly, the lights flashing reflectively in the villain’s sunglasses shaking the teenager from his thoughts.

Izuku inhaled shakily from where he was on the roof, head in his hands a s he tried to calm himself down and soothe his nerves from the lack of.. _What am I even lacking, right now?_

The teenager couldn’t get an answer, his mind tumbling about in wistful entropy. His thoughts arced and his heart was beating too fast, but the pleasantry he had felt a while ago wasn’t in his system anymore. His entire body ached, and that was the only thing that was keeping him from being able to go back to UA.

To go back to the dorms and sleep for what would probably be a solid day’s worth of time, change out of his clothes and rinse the ashy smell out of his hair and feel the warmth of his bed’s blankets swallow him whole. 

Izuku knew staying out here on the roof for too long was a stupid idea, but here he was, still doing it. He was still on the roof, breathing shallowly as he tried to get his body to stop craving something he couldn’t have. Something that would only get him killed in the end.

 _I can just come back, though._ He thought, eyes staring at the concrete before him. His vision was blurry, and though he knew he wasn’t sobbing he could tell that there were enough tears pooling in his eyes to certainly make it seem like he was. 

Sure, he couldn’t inhale. He couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t get his heart rate to slow or to find a rhythm to try and wane the process of his rapid thoughts and shaky exhales. He knew he needed to get home, but the pain was too much, and everything else was too far away. 

It felt too far to reach.

Izuku was struggling to stay still and not get up and fling himself over the roof’s edge; But he had expected that. He expected the urge of death to walk up to him and frown, knock on his door and break a window open so he could scream at him some more.

 _But it normally isn’t so loud._ He swallowed again, screwing his eyes shut. The thoughts didn’t go away, instead they just kept coming. His head was pounding uncomfortably, and all he could think about was the fact he needed to reset and get his head cleared from what he currently was feeling. _Normally it isn’t like this._

And yet, if he reset, he’d have to go through this entire process _again._ Fuck, if he was unlucky enough he’d end up right back at the Gekkeiju base, and that wouldn’t be fun at all. 

That’d be absolute hell- And Fury wouldn’t even _need_ to use his fucking quirk.

He swallowed thickly, blinking back the tears and exhaling harshly, as if it’d help dwindle away the aching feeling in his body. Everything hurt and was numbingly painful, like he had been forced to feel hot steam whip at his skin for hours on end. Perhaps that was what happened, in a way.

Fury’s quirk seemed to work by expanding the nervous system and overriding it with pain and that empty feeling of horror that would make your stomach churn for hours on end. There was a start to the agony, but no specific end.

And then you had the peace and mindless feeling that washed over each victim if Fury was kind enough to grant them a singular ounce of mercy- Hut that mercy turned into a punishment after it slowly faded away. At least, that’s how it was for Izuku. The soft hum that filled his ears and radiated in his body turned into negativity, and it hurt so much more than the direct usage of Hell.

He could _still_ feel his muscles burning. 

Izuku grimaced at the thought that erupted in his skull, knowing it’d haunt him for the next few days if he couldn’t find a way to set himself at a better level of maturity and endurance. He frowned under the bandages on his face, “ _Fuck._ ”

“Ace?” There was a familiar voice, and the tap of shoes on the roof.

The teenager snapped to attention, having not heard the approach of whoever had landed on the roof. He hadn’t heard shit, and his vision was too blurry for him to see a damn thing. Everything was jumbled together, and it made the pounding in his head two times worse.

“What?” He croaked out, hoping whoever it was would take the hint of leave. But, thinking back to the vocal notes of the voice who had called out with his vigilante name, he knew it was the same pro-hero he ran into nearly every other patrol.

His luck was truly terrible, wasn’t it?

“Ace,” His teacher’s voice was cool, collected, even. But Izuku heard the faint trace of worry, and could picture the small frown that would be taking over his indirect guardian’s expression. “Did something happen?”

“Something always happens,” Izuku choked out, as if to try and sweep his current emotions and stature with his knees to his chest and head in hands away. As if making a sarcastic deflection of Aizawa’s comment would get him out of the mess he was in. “It jus’ isn’t this bad, normally.” 

_Normally I don’t risk letting you find out until after I get back to UA,_ His mind said, almost bitterly. But his thoughts weren’t bitter or annoyed, just regretful. Fearful, too, if you could even count it as such. _Normally I don’t get caught in my fits of whatever the hell I'm experiencing. The aftermath of Fury’s quirk?_

“Are you injured?” The pro-hero asked, casually. Izuku couldn’t breathe, couldn’t say anything back. He froze where he was, back pressed up against the small ‘rail’ that prevented him from falling off the building and plummeting to his death. 

Maybe if he acted quickly enough, jumped up and made a lunge for it without any warning, he’d be able to fall and slam his head on the concrete. He’d be able to reset and go back to a few hours before this, and he’d wake up on a building’s roof a few blocks down from here.

It had been long enough for him to not reappear in the Gekkeiju base.

That’s all that really mattered.

“No.” He said after a few minutes, softly. His voice wavered, and both he and Aizawa knew it. Izuku swallowed again, rubbing his temples as if it’d help wear down the headache he was getting. _I wish I was._

His teacher didn’t take such a thing for an answer, and almost hesitantly so, the man walked towards the vigilante on the roof. He squatted down a few feet away, his blurry silhouette the only sign that he wasn’t going to reach out and grab ahold of Izuku to arrest and subdue him for vigilantism.

“Where?” The adult asked, calmly.

“I’m _not_ injured..” Izuku winced again, lightly. _I am suffering; But it’s not a physical injury that you can treat with a bandaid and tiny bits of vaseline or antiseptic. My nerves are messed up and I can’t tell anything apart._

Without a response that was truthful, the hero prodded a bit more. “Ace.” 

He hated the tone that his teacher used, hated the way he acted so gingerly. But at the same time, his mind spewed contradictions. Spewed thankful phrases that told him to ask for a hug, like what he did a few weeks back after getting a concussion-effect from a gang member’s quirk. 

“I’m not.” He repeated, again.

“That’s as convincing as saying I’m a hallucination,” Aizawa replied flatly.

Izuku’s head snapped up, eyes suddenly dilated with fear under his goggles. He managed to sputter out a question, voice hoarse and laced with a hidden distrust and panic that only the most observant would be able to recognize. “Are you?” 

Unluckily for him, his teacher was naturally observant.

“No,” Came a response, slowly and carefully. “No, I’m not a hallucination, Ace.”

The vigilante felt a wave of stupidity wash over him, and he flinched. He didn’t know what to say to convince his teacher that he’d be fine. And of course, it’d be a lie, as he was so distorted it’d be unlikely that he’d be able to process this information or even figure out a way to explain himself once he got back to campus. 

He’d get caught and then he’d have to reset again to try and fix the whole situation- But by that point it’d already be impossible and far too complicated to fix with a simple activation of his quirk.

If he got caught, he’d get forced to stay on campus. 

If he got caught, he wouldn’t be able to help Mouse; And she’d get killed or hurt more and _more._ Izuku wasn’t heartless, and he wasn’t the type of person to try and save himself instead of others. If he died, _he died._

He’d come back within a few minutes after the agonizing pain of death.

And yet, fear was bubbling in his chest and he felt so sick he didn’t know if trying to run away would even be worth it. _For fuck’s sake,_ it wouldn’t even matter if he got caught- Because Ace was just an alias that he used to be another person who wasn’t held back by society’s restraints. 

Ace wasn’t easily discouraged, and ignored nearly every order- Every suggestion in existence to ever come out from Shouta Aizawa’s mouth. And yet here he was, terrified of what was to happen if he actually got caught and was unable to reset fast enough to take back all of the mistakes he made in the previous hours of living.

He’d rather experience Fury’s Hell again than get caught and forced to stay at UA as a ward. He’d rather get burned and forced to stay a night at the Gekkeiju base just to be forced about and yelled at. 

His mentality was already shit- But it still hurt when he was called useless. 

“Did you get hit with a quirk while on patrol?” Aizawa asked, sighing after a few seconds when the vigilante didn’t answer. Upon hearing the gentle snap of someone’s fingers, Izuku was back and out of his head. “Ace, are you sure you don’t have a concussion or some form of quirk in your system? You aren’t spacey by naturality.”

It was a true statement; As much as Izuku wished he could deny it and defend himself. But he had no excuses, and felt too tired to actually try and say anything. The world around him had exploded in greys and deep shades of navy, the night being frigid and yet far too hot for the current season they were in.

The younger and less-experienced ‘hero’ felt sad and weak, and no matter how much he shut his eyes to try and get the pain to go away, it didn’t. So he forced a statement out of his mouth instead, teeth gritting from the blistering agony that followed up in his throat. “Not important.”

It was hot and it burned- The sensation existing in his memories, nothing more than phantom pain in his muscles. The cuts on his bicep were treated and gently cleaned, as he had been under Heaven’s effects for that duration of time.

But there was the everlasting hatred that coursed in his veins, the type of hate that spiraled into terror and paranoia. As soon as he got back to UA and entered the forms- Or even stepped one foot onto the campus, he knew he’d be jittery and probably in one of the worst mental states he could _possibly_ be in. 

A fucking nightmare. 

“It is important, it can be crucial to your functionality and mental state, not to mention your physical health.” His teacher replied, as nonchalantly as ever. “Just because you're a vigilante doesn’t mean you deserve to get beat up and have to suffer without treatment.”

Can a person really suffer if the world had treated them harshly their whole life? Or would that just make them exceptionally strong for surviving the harsh reception they were forced to deal with ever since they took their first breaths in the universe? 

He didn’t know any difference, didn’t see a grave opposition between the two options. He wasn’t suffering past toleration; Because if he was, he would have already cracked apart like fancy chinaware that had been dropped one too many times onto the hardwood floor.

Izuku swallowed, trying to piece together things that wouldn’t be important within the next few hours. Would it matter if he tried to bolt right now? _Probably, but I’ll get hurt even if I don’t run right now._ He couldn’t get a full sentence out, feeling pitifully weak and exhausted. “I don’t..”

His words were caught up in a web of pain and hoarseness, something his teacher noticed. Aizawa always noticed; Always paid just enough attention to catch Izuku in his acts of blunt lies and straight up bullshit.

“You don’t..?” The adult paused, staying where he was. 

The vigainte didn’t say anything else; Fighting off a rather persistent wave of nausea that had just hit him in the gut unfairly, as if Izuku was back in a fight that he had never been prepared for.

When he spoke next, his voice was still as soft and lightweight as it had been a few minutes ago; Except now it was more free-flowing and had hints of concerned frustration. “You don’t _what,_ Ace? I can’t help if you don’t give me anything to work with, you know this.”

He did know this; From the previous times he’d been loopy and half out of it as he paced on a roof. From the time he met with his teacher a few days ago; Explaining how he joined the Gekkeiju’s gang in favor of being a ‘double-agent’ to try and take the organization down.

But everything he wanted to do was so far away- Everything he needed to do to save Mouse and make sure he _and_ Miura could get out as unscathed as possible was nearly an inevitable thing to wish for.

It felt so pointless to even want to try.

“I don’t think you can fix..” He paused, swallowing and shaking his head. Pain bloomed in his bones and made its way through his nerves, hot and blindingly white in the corners of his already tear-filled vision. “You can’t fix wha’ happened. I don’t think an’one can.”

 _It’s my own damn fault for not being able to handle Heaven._ He thought, grimly. The voice in his head made him shudder outwardly, earning a sharp stare from the hero on the roof with him; Said adult evaluating him with careful precision. 

“So what happened?” Aizawa repeated, being uncharacteristically patient for him. Maybe it was because he was remembering Izuku’s previous state awhile back, barely conscious and so out of it he tried to throw himself off a fucking roof. “Was it from the Gekkeiju?”

Izuku froze, breath getting stuck in his throat. 

He wanted to agree, to say that the situation had gotten worse and that he had merely been on the wrong side of authority today, and made one too many mistakes that he probably wouldn’t have ever been able to correct in time to save himself.  
Izuku carried the burden of the future, but only after death. 

“That’s..” He couldn’t form a sentence, feeling a phantom hand dig into his throat. It made him want to chuck himself off a skyscraper and hit the ground with an ear splitting scream; The cracking of his skull on the ground enough to produce a loud enough sound to be heard from miles away. 

Izuku swallowed, voice turning harsh. “I’ll be fine.” 

The teacher stared at him, but Izuku couldn’t place the emotion that was on his mentor’s face. Helooked like he just had three heart attacks in the midst of night while he slept, and then still managed to go and get coffee at the crack of dawn. Aizawa sighed heavily, running a hand down the lower half of his face. “Jeez, kid.” 

The teenager bit back a snort, instead muttering with airy denial. “I’m not a kid-”

“And it’s daytime right now,” Came the curt and nearly bland reply, the pro-hero inhaling and exalting to try and keep his tone steady within a reasonable level of concern and frustration.

Lashing out at what was a spooked teenager, who nearly killed himself just a few weeks ago due to the aftermath of a quirk, was _not a good idea._ Especially if he was under a quirk’s influence right now, close to a ledge and feeling unsafe in the presence of a hero who could _possibly_ be the downfall of his vigilantism. 

“Ace,” The pro-hero sounded like he was close to groaning in frustration, but he seemed to keep such emotions under tight wraps; His voice still calm and rather neutral for the concern that burned deep in his eyes. “You do realize I’m trying to help, right?” 

_Your version of help will get me caught._ Izuku thought, and he instantly forced out a reply.

“Maybe I don’t want your help.” He replied, far too fast for his teacher to think he had even bothered to try and hear him out. He hadn’t, in all truth. “Maybe you can’t help, and I’m just tryin’ to make it easier on the both of us.” 

_I don’t want you to know who I am, and by letting someone try and treat phantom pain that isn’t even there anymore- I don’t want to deal with it._ His head was spinning with dizzy thoughts and strange sounds he couldn’t even compute as words at all, so he brought his hands back up to hold his head for a brief moment, as if it’d help steady the racing heart in his chest. 

It didn’t.

The teacher was persistent, though. His voice was soft as he spoke next, but it still made Izuku freeze in sudden fear at the words that came out of his mouth. “What if I said you’d have no choice otherwise?”

“Is that a..” The teenager swallowed again, feeling small. “Is that a threat?”

“I don’t know, Ace. Is it?” Aizawa asked again, and if Izuku had any less stability he would have jumped up and fucking fallen over the edge of the roof. At his teacher’s words, he teased considerably, enough to make his guardian sigh. He answered his own question, almost reluctantly. “Not exactly; I’m not trying to. But you’re not.. In the right headspace.”

“How would you know?” Izuku bit out, voice going flimsy. It was the type of tone that most knew as one that indicated sadness; A type of grief that would forever push a person to want to help the other who was hurting, but the injured never spoke up about it.

They’d only deny, deny and deny it until their words dropped poison and self-hate; Such an illness untreatable by the finest medical care in all of the world. Because emotional damage couldn’t be healed with bandages and antiseptics; Couldn’t be fixed by such messes. 

“A while back you nearly threw yourself off of a damn roof.” His teacher said, and Izuku flinched again at the mention. “Did you think I’d forget about that so easily? Especially after you asked for a hug in the midst of your daze and then slipped right out from under my nose and vanished a few minutes later?”

 _I probably scared you- You probably thought I died and had never existed in the first place._ His mind whispered, almost with horror. _I went back to the dorms and reset after that- Slept it off. But you don’t need to know that._

No one needed to know that.

“That was a quirk’s effect,” Izuku defended himself, albeit weakly. Always weakly when trying to defend and support his decisions as a vigilante- Shit like this was hard to describe without sounding stupid. “I wasn’t thinking and had no awareness of my surroundings. It’s _different_ now.” 

_It’s not._ He whispered inwardly, knowing full well everything he said was just some bittersweet lie he was trying to use to escape the falsehood of reality; The falseness that flooded his bison and made him shake with nightmares and desperation for things he couldn’t have. _Nothing has changed at all._

“You’re under another quirk’s effects, you mean.” The man arched an eyebrow, the gesture narrowly going unnoticed by the greenette who was trying to suppress the aching pain in his legs that was working up his spine and spreading through his lungs. 

The freckled teenager sighed, exhaustion dragging his head under thick clouds of despair and a type of self-hate that he only ever felt after harming himself or resting too much, “A different quirk, mind you.”

And it was, as much as Izuku hated to admit it. The effects he was experiencing weren’t from a common thug this time. No, it was from Fury; And for once in the vigilante’s life he managed to keep his jaw tightly clenched together at the thought of the villain’s quirk. 

Such a thing was a far more painful threat, truly.

“You admit to it; Finally, we are getting somewhere.” His teacher exhaled, giving the younger one a look that made Izuku want to shrink on himself. He hated getting mixed up with conversations that lead to a weak argument and scuffling of trust, but Aizawa cared for both him as Ace and as Izuku Midoriya.

It was just the fact that nothing could always convince him that others genuinely cared. It was a hard thing to believe after years of abuse and harsh words from nearly everyone in existence. Plus, his mindset truly wasn’t cut out for stuff like this when he was preoccupied with not dying.

_But wanting to die anyways._

“You can’t fix it. I have to wait it out.” The vigilante frowned again, before sighing heavily and slowly setting his forehead on his knees; Tired. _Or I think that’s what I have to do. I don’t actually know; I’ve never experienced this much contradiction in one go._

“I see,” His indirect-mentor said, nodding once in a firm motion. Then, he gestured back to the teenager, voice insouciant when he spoke next. It wasn’t cold or hateful but it was realized enough to sound far too casual for the pro-hero. It wasn’t.. Normal. “Were you planning on staying out all night?” 

Again, the freckled teenager paused; Before shaking his head with a small sigh. “No.”

His teacher hummed, as if he was doubting the vigilante again. Though, Izuku didn’t blame him for being like that. He kept getting injured and forced into a daze by quirk effects lately, so it was only natural. “Good; Where are you going, then?” 

_Back home._

“Are you trying to blackmail me when I’m loopy and my entire body feels like I’m being ripped apart alive at a slow and terrifyingly _agonizing_ pace?” Izuku retorted instead of giving an honest answer, voice shaking slightly. He knew better than to snap at his teacher, but the world wasn’t fair and everything he wanted to do and accomplish was such a high feat it felt so sickening to want to try. 

“No, that’s not my intention.” Aizawa replied, levelly. “But going off of what you just said on the quirk you are experiencing, I’m going to assume you would have waited out here for a long time before going back to wherever you are staying at?”

He met Izuku’s gaze, and even though his eyes were calm and laced with worry; The other’s were fearful and shook up. But the hero didn’t need to know that, and wouldn’t find out for as long as the goggles stayed on. Fear pulsed through the student’s system, and for the first time in a while he felt more distrust for the UA teacher than he had had for any other. 

“Maybe.” The shorter human said after a few moments.

“Great.” Aizawa muttered, before exhaling again. He wasn’t in the best position to offer Izuku anything, and the greenette knew this. He also knew that his teacher wasn’t going to just give up and go away, and he’d continue to try and get answers and information as subtly as he could. “How can I help?”

“You can stop asking me these questions?” Izuku suggested, rather limply. He knew it was a long shot, so he didn’t even bother to sound hopeful. It was a flat and dry tone, laced with fatigue. “I don’t have much information that’d be of use to you. Just go back to your patrol, and I’ll sit up here and wait until I can get up and go home.” 

“Not happening, Ace.” He said blandly. “Try again.”

 _Knew it._ The vigilante sighed, “Then you can’t do anything.”

“Do you have a fever?” Aizawa asked, arching one brow in a silent gesture. Izuku froze for a single second, trying to figure out if the adult was being serious or if it was just sarcasm.

“What-? No, I don’t-..” He froze when he saw his teacher reach out, pressing the back of his hand to Izuku’s forehead. The contact made pain bloom under the student’s skin, but he was too wrapped up in the fact he couldn’t get away without making himself dig a deeper grave. 

If he wanted to die, he’d find a better way than dying of panic.

“You are warmer than normal, but it’s not a high fever if you have one at all,” The adult said, exhaling again. “I don’t know if that’s because you’re overheating, an effect of whoever attacked you’s quirk, or if you actually are sick; But any of those options are concerning as it is.”

The hand retracted, but even when it did Izuku stayed frozen where he was; Eyes pricked with tears under his goggles. It hurt, but it was a comforting and careful gesture that made him want to ask for confirmation that he wasn’t stupid for getting caught up in a gang that was known to kidnap and kill children. 

“Yeah,” He swallowed instead, voice low. “Probably.”

His mentor watched him for a moment, still a good distance away for the most part. There was a calculating sense in his gaze, evaluating what little emotions could be seen through the other’s form. “Can you tell me anything at all?”

 _I wish I could._ Izuku thought, trying to not let what little defensiveness he had break away. He’d go back home to where he and his mother had lived before the Training Camp situation; He’d take a bath and wash away the tension and curl up under heavy blankets and sleep the delirious feelings away.

“Not really.” He shook his head, knowing that if he were to say too much about what was happening he’d get himself in a deeper grave and a far too steep ditch to try and climb and crawl out of. Let it be from heroes who would try to ‘help’, or if the Gekkeiju would find out about this conversation.

Aizawa pressed. “Are you sure?”

“No,” Izuku replied again; Quickly and without so much as a millisecond of hesitance. He just was trying to get the pro-hero to stop asking so many questions, trying to get the conversation over with so he could find a way to get the ache out of his bones. Would stretching do anything? _Probably not,_ but it would be worth a shot if he could get the motivation to do so.. “I’m just.. Tired.”

“You should try and stop patrolling as much then, take a few breaks.” His teacher said, suggesting it like it would actually work. Perhaps it would in any other situation, but not in the one he was in. Not now, and not for a while.

“I have to save that little girl.. And the other ‘prisoners’ there..” The vigilante said, slowly and carefully. The expression of a hopeful Mouse looked back at him, ash coating her skin and a water-bottle squeezing in one hand. He winced, hearing Avenging Angel’s voice echo in solitude within his eardrums again. “Taking a break would get them killed.” 

_I can’t let them die. I made a promise._

“How can you save them if you’re dead?” Aizawa asked, almost doubtfully. It was the type of tone you heard when a person was trying to hide disbelief or blistering concern- Although the teenager had a feeling his mentor’s concern wasn’t just because he couldn’t get any information out of Izuku. If anything, it was the genuine worry that Ace would get killed. 

_Haha.. But I’m Ace; And I can’t die.. So Ace won’t, either._

“I’ll just start from scratch again, like always.” He said, not thinking twice about the response that came past his lips. The silence was enough to make him go rigid, his brain catching up to the words he just said. _Oh fuck._

He couldn’t even open his mouth under the bandages on the lower half of his face before he tensed up and found himself stuck in a paradox. If he had been in another mindset, maybe one that was even an ounce more suicidal, he would have been able to prevent himself from saying such fuckery and getting himself swept into a whole new conversation that he wouldn’t be able to hide or deflect. 

“You’ll.. Start from scratch?” The adult asked, slowly. Each word was stated deliberately when it came out of the underground hero’s mouth, almost cautious. Waiting for a violent reaction. 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-_

“I take it back; I’m too loopy to have a conversation with you.” The teenager quickly spoke up, getting himself out of the sudden panic he was in and speaking with a slight raise in his voice; As if to try and stomp down any other questions that the pro-hero might have up his sleeve.

“Ace,” Aizawa respected, eyes suddenly more observant and keen behind his goggles. It made the other party’s head pound harder, headache turning into something borderline unmanageable. “What do you mean, you’ll, ‘Start from scratch’?” 

Izuku sharply exhaled, “Eraserhead. Forget it.”

“I don’t think I’m going to do that, Ace.” His teacher responded, not letting him off the hook. The vigilante hadn’t thought he would, not in a million years or hundreds of resets; But it still made the illegal hero find the idea of being called out on something, something that wasn’t even _fully_ explained- It still made his body tense up. “When you die, you _die._ You can’t come back from death- It’s common logic.”

“It’s not important if I know it or not.” The teenager bit out, sounding strained. _You can’t tell me I’m forever dead when I can reset and come back to life prior to such actions- You can’t tell me that I’ll be dead forever if I can just come back from it._ “Leave it alone.”

“Ace,” Aizawa’s voice reached his ears and was processed as a statement, but the word spoken merely bounced around his head and in his eardrums and choked what little self-preservation Izuku still had left in him. “What do you mean?”

So he bit out a whetted response, “I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Is it a part of your quirk?” Again though, his teacher didn’t let up with the questions. He wasn’t letting Izuku slip away through his fingers, wasn’t letting the conversation get swept under a metaphorical rug and left to suffocate under a mat. He wasn’t giving up, and the vigilante found it almost heart wrenching.

He wanted to answer truthfully; Wanted to say exactly what was on his mind and exactly how and what he needed to do to get rid of the pain in his body that was yet to disappear, but he couldn’t risk it. “You don’t need to know the aspects of my quirk. Stop asking.”

“You just said you’d merely start again after death.” Aizawa responded, calmly in comparison to the jittery mess Izuku had become. “That’s not exactly something I’m willing to brush under the rug, no matter what you want to deem it as.”

“Who is to say that I care about what _you_ want to know? I’m tired and worn out, and I don’t have the energy for this or whatever else is in store for me- If I fuck up one more time it’ll make things so much worse.” He snapped, his tone strained and sorely painful. “You can’t help a person who doesn’t want to be helped. So stop asking, Eraserhead.”

“I want to help.” His mentor said, a contrast from what Izuku was expecting. He winced at the honest and sincere tone that Aizawa spoke in, knowing it was unfair of him to generalize each hero as one that wanted to arrest him. Knowing it was unfair to think that his own teacher was only trying to arrest him, despite every sign saying otherwise. 

The student couldn’t get his thoughts to properly form for a few minutes, and he frowned. His brows creased, but his hair covered his forehead, bangs messy and damp with sweat. “I don’t want help right now; I want to sleep until my body decides to shut down and I don’t have to deal with this feeling.” 

Aizawa gave him a rippled expression, lifting his goggles up from his head to ask a question. To maintain eye-contact, to maintain a conversation that the other didn’t want to deal with. “What feeling?”

“It’s just a quirk. Mine and someone else’s. I should have expected something else and figured out how to avoid it, but I didn’t, and now I risk my consciousness to stay active.” He replied, again. Thoughts of resetting and letting his blood drain out of his veins and out of his arteries crossed his mind, but he shook them away. “It’ll go away eventually.”

The man’s gaze met his, “You sound doubtful of that.” 

“It’s happened before.” The student muttered. “Just not as bad as this.” 

“When?” Aizawa inquired. His tone wasn’t harsh or angry; Not even the slightest bit upset. It was hidden under layers of thick smoke and displeasure, sure, but it wasn’t a vile timbre. It wasn’t like Fury’s laughter, or the sadness that plagued Mouse’s eyes when he saw her just a few hours ago.

Izuku couldn’t stop shaking, but he was forcing it down. He was forcing it to disappear, for it to get locked away for another time when he could actually function and handle the fears of getting caught by both his teachers at UA, or what was nearly worse, the Gekkeiju. He didn’t know what would be worse to get exploited by- 

Probably the villains he was working with, as they’d purposely harm him and not let him die just to draw out his suffering, but in comparison having to face his mentor’s and educational guardians who were the few adults who cared about him besides his mother? Yeah, he felt like that’d be _a lot worse._

He could handle pain- He’d take it over suffering with his classmates and Rae hers while being stuck on campus like some little kid that needs to be watched every second of the day. He could handle getting his body ripped apart, or suffering from Fury’s quirk, but not the looks of distrust. 

Never the betrayal in his friends’ gazes.

“Months ago.” The vigilante finally voiced, running one hand through his hair shakily. It was a twitchy and clearly nervous movement, something to distract himself with. It reminded him of when Miura ran her hand through his hair after Fury used his quirk on him. 

_Heaven was what plagued me._

“Months, okay.” Aizawa said, as if to confirm the words to himself so he could continue talking with a level head. “What did you do then to fix it, or was there something that helped?”

The questions kept piling up, and Izuku was getting more and more overwhelmed. He didn’t really _do_ anything to make it better. He coped in ways of self-destruction and mindless determination, a burning hatred twisting in his mind as he would cut his skin open bit by bit; Trying to get the sharp pierce to give him relief. 

But to say that out loud? Yeah, probably _not_ a good idea. Not while he was severely lost in his own mind, sick and exhausted. It was an empty feeling in his stomach, nauseating except without any chance of making him throw up. 

“I can’t say.” He gave a weak shrug, running his hand through his hair again. 

The hero on the roof with him gave him a bland look, wincing slightly at the clear lack of information that the illegal was giving him. The sheer lack of any knowledge, any situational value. “Ace, you’re making this really difficult.”

“I know.” The kid replied softly after a few seconds of muddled thinking. He knew he was making the conversation a lot harder than he should, but his mind was swamped down with so many things- Each thing contradicting the other and bouncing about in a mindless facade of deprivation and paranoia. “And, and-d.. And I’m sorry.” 

His teacher paused, freezing where he was. A look of genuine confusion passed over the male’s face, twisting into mild surprise and dismissal. His tone was still casual- Still calm and unwavering. “What for?”

 _For lying to you._ The student said to himself, the words never exiting his head or reaching the base of his tongue. Sure, the syllables and sounds were able to be made; But the energy to say it, without getting riled up and more startled than he already was as of currently, wasn't exactly a good idea. 

So he sighed again, voice weak and nearly inaudible, “Everything.” 

“That’s not very specific, and doesn’t exactly make me understand.” Aizawa replied, but his voice wasn’t cold. It wasn’t hot with hatred or spite, and didn’t sizzle in Izuku’s ears like the burning of his flesh as a cigarette was pressed into it. He still had the previous marks from when Fury did that at his last visit.

“I wish I could s-say more.” He stuttered out, rubbing his temples in something akin to consolation. He’d end up going to Neito for comfort when he got back to the dorms anyways- So it didn’t matter. He’d got home tonight and see his mother, and she’d be worried for his well-being, and they’d eat dinner, and then he’d sleep it off. 

And that was one of the more positive options he had.

“You can.” Aizawa said, with a small shrug.

 _Oh I wish. I wish it was that easy; As easy as you say it is._ His mind swirled with possibilities, but he pushed them all aside. He knew better than to do that, but he also just wanted to scream until his lungs stopped working and his throat became sore and his voice was to break. “I’ll get killed, and have to repeat the process again until I can’t.”

He needed someone to confide in; And it was an idiotic idea to think he’d be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Ace, I don’t understand what you’re implying.” The adult said, carefully. “You won’t tell me what you mean by having to ‘start again’, and your quirk isn’t related to death from the information you’ve told me.”

Always carefully when the vigilante was in a state like _this._

Izuku let a choked laugh escape him, “Eraserhead, it’s foresight. I see the possibilities and chances ahead of me, but my activations are too much for a normal person to do. It’s a messed up, blundering thing that haunts you- I can’t say much else. I’m too scared to, and it'd only get me killed until I can’t come back again.”

There was a long pause, and Izuku nearly thought he had gone deaf; Before he heard an acuminated voice speak up. The only other person on the roof was Aizawa, so it was only natural for the pro-hero to start talking again- Although Izuku could feel the tension start to rise. 

“Again?” His mentor repeated, as if to test the waters.

The vigilante felt loopy again, stuck in a Grey area between wanting to curl up and die, and wanting to sleep for eternity to make his body grow sore and distantly aware of the pain; But not enough for him to take it info to effect or focus on it for too long. 

So he shrugged, nodding along as if it wasn’t a big deal. _It wasn’t,_ not to him; Not anymore. It wasn’t important and posed no threat to Izuku’s sanity, because he abused the relief death gave him. “Mhm..”

“Ace,” Aizawa said slowly, for once sounding extremely quiet. It was more harsh than his previous tones, but that was because of the blunt shock and disbelief coursing in his voice as he spoke. “You mean to say, you’ve died before.. And your quirk let’s you _come back?_ That’s how foresight works?”

Izuku merely stared at him.

He thought that such an explanation was already obvious, really. 

But alas, he was wrong. Perhaps his current predicament was more of an issue than he had originally planned it to be. Knowing how much of a ditz he could be when mentally exhausted and out of any form of sanity, it was probably his own fault for not just heading straight home.

“You have to let things play out, and then you die to go back to before the event happened- And it reverses?” His teacher sounded appalled; The type of revolt that wasn’t even disgruntled. It was the form of repulse that was so heavily drugged with non-existent medication, it became _concern_ that was capable of knocking down actual buildings and causing floods of tears. “And no one knows but you?”

“No one else.” He agreed, numbly. “If that’s how you’d like to think of it.”

 _Neito knows, but I can’t say that._ The teenager saw an image of his friend flash in his head, and it made him frown to himself. _Neito knows I’ve died, he’s the only one that knows I’ve ended my life several times before and still come back to reality to do what every other kid dies at this age._

Studying, training, actually living- He was an average kid despite his status as a ‘quirkless person’, and was still living somewhat safely in comparison to how he allowed himself to act when he was Ace. 

“You’ve died before.” Aizawa said suddenly after the long pause; Voice losing all keenness and replacing itself into a mellowed and disruptive design expression. The teenager knew the timbre all too well. 

He heard it time and time again, often from _himself._

“Many times.” Izuku said, laughing lightly. There was no amusement or glee in his voice; Only a weak agony that begged to be soothed and taken away. He looked down at the roof, feeling drowsy. His knees were still pulled to his chest and his back was still hunched against the edge of the roof. “Too many times for me to count and tell you..”

“ _Ace._ ” The voice of the pro-hero on the roof with him caught his attention. It sounded strained; Almost as twisted and strung up as Izuku’s own voice when he couldn’t get any words out and was flooded with urges he wished he’d never experience outside of his bedroom or a bathroom stall; Where death could be granted easily. 

When the kid looked up again, blinking away the spare tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes, he was pulled into a warm embrace- And pain bloomed under his skin at the contact. Pain bloomed, but his mind ignored it entirely; Focused on the fact that his teacher had reached out and hugged him.

And he didn’t even ask for it. 

“Fucking hell, kid.” His teacher muttered, holding him tightly. 

The hug was burning, and it blistered underneath Izuku’s skin. It was uncomfortable for all the wrong reasons; Something he couldn’t control by normal dissociation. Fury’s quirk still reigned a decent amount of pain in the teenager’s body and mind, cursing him with an exhaustion he wished he didn’t have to deal with. 

Pain was tolerable by many different variations, in nearly every different case he’d been in. Pain was the feeling that coursed through him and his splintered bones, across his bruised and tattered skin. It coursed through him even after it was supposed to die off, but that was okay.

The scene was far too familiar, far too similar. Izuku wished he was in a better mindset, one that wasn’t influenced by a villain’s quirk and making the teenager feel sick to the core and far too hot. His skin burned but there was no source of heat, and yet, he also felt cold despite having a new vigilante suit with sleeves. 

Cold and alone, even with his indirect-guardian hugging him. 

Izuku couldn’t say anything, couldn't get a single word out. His body had shut down, going limp in a weak and exhausted way. Fatigue plagued his mind unforgivingly, tugging him down into whatever hell’s still existed in his head. 

His head hit Aizawa’s chest, and he could feel stuttering breaths coming out of him. The hug was nice- It would have been more comforting if he hadn’t needed it at all; If he hadn’t broken apart and slowly gotten worse over the past week while anticipating his time at the Gekkeiju base. Fuck; It would have been better if Izuku Midoriya could have gotten the hug, rather than Ace.

But at the same time, it wasn’t stressful. 

He felt like the world had gone away for a few minutes, replacing time with tiny toothpicks meant to piece through fancy pastries and snacks at balls that were held hundreds of years ago; With champagne gold hues being popped open into the air and rosy red wine being pitted down each attendee’s throat. 

It was as if the world had turned into a ballroom full of dancing and laughing. The grey and blue skies that signaled nighttime had turned bright. The unforgiving scent of wrath and heavy rain that came with it, Izuku felt like it had all disappeared, too.

The darkness of black clouds and cold winds turned into a bright and bubbly universe with radiating lights and distant music that didn’t exist outside of the teenager’s head. He imagined it was full of sweets and aromas of roses, attributed with fresh flowers that had been placed in brightly dyed vases; The water inside painting a picture that reflected each petal delightfully.

Distant buzzes filled Izuku’s ears, and he tried to breathe as quietly as he could. He wished he wouldn’t keep having situations like these; Where he felt pointless and thought the entire population on earth hated him for a status that wasn’t even terminally accurate in the fucking slightest.

But in that meant comparison, of the bright lights and warm smiles and soft chocolates that would melt on your tongue when you bit into them, it was fun over there. It was false and wasn’t real enough; Wasn’t cruel enough for Izuku to ever be able to live there _happily._

In sincere peace.

It didn’t matter if he tasted all of the world’s sweetest and most praised caramels, or if he could eat rich toffee and the freshest and most ripe fruits every day until he laid his head to rest. It also didn’t matter if he could walk at night without having to wear a mask that prevented his identity from being known, or if he could roll around in patches of four-leafed clovers and laugh without any restraint.

Because for him to find peace, he needed shadows to overtake the excitement and happiness he had. He _needed_ a way to gain such vast waves of relief, that not even a tsunami could give him the same feeling of peace and blissful silence. 

He needed to be able to hear his own heartbeat struggle to keep going, his breath getting caught in his throat as his lungs slowly lost the will to continue expanding and inhaling the oxygen the cruel world of reality had to offer to him. The smoke and ash of hopes and dreams that were on fire would cling to his skin, and he needed to feel the burn of adrenaline coursed through him to feel like he was worth something. 

Even if his tongue went dry, and he could no longer taste copper on his tongue and flood his mouth, he needed the ability to die. He needed the bittersweet truth of his life to keep him from growing lost in what little fantasies his mind could put together for him. 

The world could grant him hatred and discipline; The ignorance of stupidity that came with living life as a human soul. You were human for as long as others deemed you to be, to which he found the entire construct to be warped and without a real reason besides the fact that certain people couldn’t accept others for who they were, or what they had in their possession.

Izuku knew this by heart. He knew how it worked and how the neglect would slowly turn into abuse; No matter who you thought you could trust, it would turn you against those you thought you’d live besides until the day you could no longer breathe. 

But breathing was the act of getting oxygen into your lungs. 

It was the action used to stay alive and awake, to keep yourself conscious so you don’t become lightheaded or choke on your own saliva as you cried. That’s all that breathing was; The ability to stay alive so you wouldn’t grow weak and become unable to keep your eyes open against the darkness that would crowd your vision and make you fall ill. 

Izuku Midoriya was a student at a highschool where he played two lives; Two main roles of opposing dramas. On one stage, he was a vigilante that worked underhand at a criminal organization; Trying to save people who could die if he made one mistake too soon, or didn’t act quick enough in comparison to another. 

On a whole other, he was just this average highschool student trying to accomplish a dream that seemed impossible to the majority of society; Trying to become a hero without exposing the true nature he had as a being who could come back to life _after each death he went through with._

He died for the sake of himself; For the sake of others.

He grew sick of the empty feeling in his stomach, the nausea that started to freeze over his skin and turn him into a virus that would hack and force a person’s blood to run cold. 

The things he did turned pointless and dull; Like he had never succeeded in doing them in the first place. When pain sparked up inside of him, chewing at his neck and trying to consume what little acceptance he had firmed and given himself; He let the feeling take over. 

He would die as many times as it took to escape reality, but he would stay alive to make sure he never actually left.

Izuku inhaled shakily, screwing his eyes shut underneath the goggles he wore as he stayed in Aizawa’s tight and almost protective embrace; Hearing both his own heart beat in his chest, as well as the distant echo of his mentor’s. It was calming in a roundabout way, the feeling of being safe washing over him.

If he wanted to die; He’d have to reset in order to feel again. He’d have to reset, wake up, and repeat a process that would only exhaust what little motivation he had from the previous nights of endless patrolling and little sleep.

That was the deal.

_After all; It is only all fun and games until I actually die._

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaa, thank you for reading! If I don’t start writing another prompt, I should be working on my other stories instead,, so that’s a benefit. I have a week left before Spring Break happens, so that’s a plus, too.
> 
> Have a good day/night! _I’m going to start writing something else now._


End file.
